


Silence (Let's Savor The Pain)

by Blue_Night



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Hurt, Last Time, Leaving, M/M, Making Love, Pain, Silence, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: Robert leaves Dortmund to play for Bayern München in the future, and he visits Jakub one last time to talk to him after weeks of silence.Sequel-sequel-sequel to Janie94's 'Accidents Just Don't Happen Accidentally', sequel-sequel  to 'Opportunities (Let's Make Lots Of Sex)' and sequel to 'Chances (Let's Talk About Love').





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Janie94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/gifts), [GoForGoals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/gifts), [mariothellama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Accidents Don't Just Happen Accidentally](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616457) by [Janie94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Janie94). 
  * Inspired by [Opportunities (Let's Make Lots Of Sex)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9619412) by [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night). 
  * Inspired by [Chances (Let's Talk About Love)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658016) by [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night). 



> The last week has simply been awful and totally exhausting, and this is what comes out when I'm feeling as drained, sick and tired as I am feeling at the moment. 
> 
> I don't know whether or not there will be a sequel to this part, the feedback to the first part has been more than low, and I am still not sure why this is the case, if you just don't like my way of writing Robert and Kuba together or if it was anything else. The feedback to 'Chances' was a little better, and I actually don't expect much feedback to this part because it is pretty sad, but it wanted to be written, and the series - if it can be called a series, that is - felt incomplete without dealing with Robert leaving Dortmund to play for Munich.
> 
> I also can't tell at the moment how much time I wll have for writing within the next weeks, I have to face new challenges at work, which will be demanding and take a lot of time, so I will most likely focus on 'The Other Race' and 'The Lord And The Teacher', maybe 'Germania' or 'Dancing In The Moonlight' if my time will allow that, we will see. 
> 
> Your feedback to my works would mean even more to me, it is hard to push myself and write after a long and exhausting, demanding working day, so if you're still liking what I write and want me to continue, please let me know, because I simply can't do this without your active support.
> 
> Dear Janie94, dear GoForGoals, dear mariothellama, I gifted the first two parts to you, so this one is for you as well of course, thank you so much for being that amazing and such good friends, without your support, I would have stopped writing a long time ago. Sorry that this here has become sad, but that's how I feel at the moment. I hope you will like it nonetheless at least a little bit. <33

The silence between them is all-consuming and deafening.

If anyone had ever told Robert that silence can be so much louder than angrily yelled and hateful accusations could ever be, he would have laughed in their faces. Robert doesn't really feel like laughing at all as he stands now before the front door of Kuba's house, hoping that a miracle will finally open it.

Finally open the former invitingly looking door that promised shelter and happiness, locking the sometimes pretty hostile and exhausting world and reality out to grant Robert some hours of peace and forgetting in the strong arms of the man he loved more than anything.

The door doesn't open, and it also doesn't look inviting any longer because it doesn't lock the world outside out anymore, but keeps the man Robert longs to see so badly inside and away from him.

Robert knows that it is his own fault and that he is responsible for destroying the treasure Jakub's love for him actually was. He still loves the older man more than anything - more than anything - but not more than football.

At least Robert always thought that he loves football just as much, maybe even more than Jakub Blaszczykowski.

The dark-haired striker now knows that he was wrong about that, but the realization came far too late, and all that's left for him is pain and regret about what he has done to both of them. Pain and regret and the tiny spark of hope that Jakub will listen to him at least once - at least today - before Robert will leave Dortmund to play for Bayern München in the future the very next day.

Robert closes his eyes as he rings the doorbell again, murmuring quiet prayers to himself as he waits for the blond or a miracle to open the door. He knows that Kuba is in there, that he listens to the echoes of the bell as much as Robert listens to them.

“Damn it, Jakub, please open this fucking door!” Robert growls helplessly, pressing down on the button that hard that his thumb throbs with pain. A physical pain that is actually welcome because it distracts him from the searing pain in his heart.

The dark-haired Pole didn't really think that some inclined god would listen to his prayers, and he flinches when footsteps announce someone coming to the door a couple of seconds after the echo of the last ringing has subsided.

It opens without any sound, and Kuba emerges on the threshold as silently as a ghost, staring at Robert looking up at him from the second stair with a face that could be the face of a white marble statue, beautiful but without any emotion.

The older footballer wears a simple white tee and not too tightly fitting washed out bluejeans, and to Robert he has never looked more beautiful and desirable than in this moment because his impassive face reminds him even more painful of what he has lost – what he has thrown away that carelessly – than angry shouts and hate could ever do.

The sight of a completely silent Jakub silences Robert as well, and so they simply stare at each other for two or three very long minutes until the blond Pole finally steps to the side and beckons Robert in with a tired gesture.

Robert swallows and slowly climbs the last two steps of the staircase leading to Jakub's house. He pushes himself through the small slit Kuba has left for him, brushing against his broadly built chest and shoulder as he does so.

The blond closes the door again, as carefully and silently as he had opened it, his eyes resting on Robert's face, but the younger man can't even tell whether or not Jakub is really seeing him.

He hesitates and uncertainly bites his lip, reaching out with his hand to touch Kuba, but drops it again, not sure if he is still allowed to do that. They continue to look at each other in this horrible, deafening silence, and Robert flinches violently when Kuba speaks up almost out of the blue, his voice calm and quiet without any emotion in it.

“Why did you come here, Robert?” His gaze is as calm and quiet as his voice is, the only emotion showing in it being resignation – if Kuba is still feeling anything at all, that is.

The dark-haired striker swallows again and opens his mouth, but he has to clear his throat before he is able to actually utter a strangled sound. “Because you didn't answer my calls or my messages. Because you didn't open this damn door! Because you refused to listen to me whenever I approached you. Because you didn't talk to me. Because you wouldn't even look at me! Because I am leaving tomorrow and needed to see you at least one last time before that again. Because I can't stand the silence between us any longer!”

Is that really his voice? Robert can't remember a single time he has sounded that desperate, desperate to get the message through to the blond, to make the older man understand.

Jakub is a footballer himself, he of all people must understand Robert, mustn't he? Robert at least thought that Jakub would understand him, that he would know that Robert has to take this chance and make the best out of his short career, because it will be over soon enough anyway, a painful but inevitable truth every sportsman has to face.

Kuba's expression stays impassive, but his eyes soften a tiny little bit.

“You have already said what you wanted to say, Lewy, haven't you? There is no need to say more and twist the knife further.”

Robert flinches at that, Kuba's words hurting even more because his voice is still that flat and quiet.

“Do you really think that you're the only one here who feels hurt and sad? That I wouldn't be hurt and sad as much as you are?” he presses out through gritted teeth, and the other Pole sighs and reaches out to stroke his face. It is only a brief and feather-like touch of Kuba's fingertips brushing over his cheek, but it is the first touch Robert gets from him after several horribly long weeks without any touch at all, and the short caress feels like heaven and hell at the same time because it is the proof that Kuba must still be feeling something for him – anything that isn't only hate and anger.

“No, Robert, I don't think that. I know that you are hurt, but it was your decision and your choice, not mine. You didn't even talk to me beforehand, you only told me about it when you had already decided to leave Dortmund.”

The lump in Robert's throat makes it hard for him to speak, but Robert welcomes the physical pain as much as he welcomed it when his thumb hurt from pressing the button of Kuba's doorbell so hard. “You are a footballer yourself, Jakub. Can't you really understand why I have to leave, why I have to take this chance?”

Kuba sighs again, and he gently cups Robert's face, wiping a warm and salty tear from his cheek Robert didn't know he was crying before he feels the blond wiping it away.

“Of course I understand you, Robert. That was never the point. I know why you want to play for Germany's top club, and I know why you want to – need to - make the best out of your time as an active player.” Both know that Kuba is talking about Robert's deceased father, and Robert is grateful that Jakub isn't speaking it out loud because he surely would break down if Kuba did.

“This is not what hurt me that much. I always knew that you would leave Dortmund sooner rather than later, but I had really hoped that you would show the respect and decency to talk to me before the ink of your signature had dried instead of keeping me in suspense and making me having to rely on rumors and the glimpses I got out of your behavior – out of your bad conscience. I of all people would have deserved your honesty and the truth before it was all done, don't you think so?” Kuba continues in this calm voice, and Robert can detect not only resignation, but also understanding, which makes his words probably even more painful than they already are because Robert knows that the other man is right and because his understanding is what Robert doesn't deserve only the slightest having treated the man he loves the way he did.

Jakub of all people would have deserved honesty and the truth, and Robert knows that himself. He hates himself for having been such a coward, but it is too late for such feelings and for regret now.

“Yes, you deserved it, Jakub,” he murmurs, the lump in his throat choking him. “I was a coward and I know that. I feared that you would be angry and yell at me, that you would try to make me stay. I feared that our last weeks together here in Dortmund would become an endless array of fights and I didn't want that. I wanted these last weeks to become the best of our time together,” he tries to explain, cringing at how ridiculous he sounds.

Which didn't happen, and Robert knows that it is only his own damn fault.

Kuba's eyes become sad, and he steps back, his hand dropping down until it hangs limply down at his side as if his arm didn't belong to him. “Did you really think that, Lewandowski? Do you really know me that little? I love you and I want you to be happy. Your happiness always mattered more to me than my own, you stupid man. Did you really consider me that selfish that I would begrudge you this chance? That I would try to make you stay instead of giving you my blessing?”

Robert closes his eyes, and he wonders briefly that his heart doesn't stop beating because of the all-consuming pain his chest tightens with, a pain that captures his entire body and steals his breath from his dry lips.

“I am sorry, Jakub. I am so very sorry,” is all he can whisper, the pain too unbearable to even cry.

“Yes, I know, Lewy.” Jakub sighs after a couple of seconds, his voice gentle as if he really did know how Robert is feeling in this moment. Which he probably does, because Jakub oftentimes seems to know Robert better than he knows himself.

Strong arms pull him close and warm lips travel over his face, and Robert wraps his own trembling arms around the older man and pulls him close, burying his face in the crook of Kuba's neck. He inhales shakily, and the familiar scent of Jakub's warm skin finally helps him to breathe again, relaxing his cramping windpipe enough that he can draw in enough air to fill his starved lungs again.

“Jakub, please, I never meant to hurt you!”

“Shhh, don't speak, Robert, not now. There have been enough words between us.”

Robert isn't sure what the man he loves that much means, but he is too grateful for finally feeling his arms around him again to ask, sensing that Kuba will push him away and tell him to leave if he doesn't stop talking.

Instead he obeys willingly when the blond lays his hand under his chin and raises his head to let Kuba claim what is his anyway and what will always be his, no matter in which cities they will live and how far away these cities will be away from each other.

Robert will never stop loving Jakub Blaszczykowski more than anything and anybody else, no ocean, mountain, valley or any other border separating them will ever change that.

Kuba's kiss is as tender as the other Pole has hardly ever kissed him, his tongue pushing into the soft cavern of Robert's mouth not demanding but only asking, and Robert melts against his strong frame and kisses him back with all the desperate love he feels for him and which has choked him over the past weeks when there was only silence and pain between them.

A silence that was different from the silence that is between them now, a silence that was heavy and accusing, while the silence now is gentle and soft like a blanket that protects them from the pain for at least a little while.

They make their way to Kuba's bedroom kissing and stroking each other's backs, pulling at their clothing in the overwhelming need to feel bare skin and be as close together as two living beings can only be, to become one in every sense of the meaning.

They are naked when they reach the large bed, and Robert draws back from Kuba's lips to speak, but the other man puts his finger onto Robert's lips and silently shakes his head, and Robert nods and closes his mouth again. He longs to speak, to tell the older one how much he loves him and how sorry he is, but if Kuba doesn't want that, than he will respect his wish and let his body do the talking for him, let his lips, his arms and his hands do the speaking for his mouth and fill the silence between them with caresses and touches instead.

His body is good at that, at expressing his feelings for the other one, Robert has learned to prove his deep love for the man he loves with every fiber of his being with his actions only, and he will do so tonight, showing Jakub that he will never love any other man the way he loves him.

Jakub presses him down onto the bed and kisses him again, and Robert wraps his arms and his legs around him and strokes his hair, losing himself in the blond's embrace, in his warmth and his scent, so male and so tempting and so very much Jakub. They kiss as if they never wanted to part again but stay like this forever, their lips sealed together and their tongues dancing the old courting dance, a dance that is as old as human mankind is, and the pleasure Robert feels goes deeper than any pleasure he has ever felt before.

Jakub's hands are everywhere on his body, stroking and caressing his heated flesh until Robert feels like burning from the inside, the evidence of his desperate desire for the other man pressing hard against Jakub's worked-out abs.

“Jakub, please, I need you!” he whispers urgently, his hips arching upwards in the wordless invitation for the other man to take him.

“Sshhh, don't speak, Robert, not tonight,” Kuba says again, silencing his plea with another searing kiss, but he isn't angry because the dark-haired Pole has broken the unspoken rule to not speak in this night – their last night together – his hands are tender and gentle, and there is only love in his kiss, only deep love and nothing else, no hate or anger about Robert leaving him and walking out of his life after this last night.

Robert nods and pulls Kuba closer, pliant in his arms and spreading his thighs when the blond shifts his weight to do what they both need more than anything in this moment. The younger Pole is grateful that they don't need condoms any longer, their relationship exclusive and still safe enough to trust each other with that despite the distance and silence between them over the past weeks. Kuba keeps kissing him while he fumbles for the bottle in the drawer of his nightstand, and Robert moans at the loss of the warmth and heavy weight of his body when the blond has to draw back a little to line himself up.

They are both too impatient and too desperate to waste time with the preparation, but they have done it without before, and Jakub is tender and careful as he now enters Robert in a maddening slow pace. He doesn't kiss Robert but looks him deep in his eyes, and Robert looks back and lets the older man see all of his longing and love, every tiny bit of his emotions for him, something they have done only rare times so far.

They both know that they love each other deeply, but neither Robert nor Jakub are the kind of men uttering their love with spoken words more often than on very few, special occasions. Tonight would be one of those rare occasions, but Kuba asked him not to speak, and Robert actually doesn't need to, his eyes and his willing body as it takes Jakub in as smoothly as never before telling the other man what he needs to know.

Kuba has told Robert that he loves him only three times until this night, but Robert can see his deep love for him in his beautiful eyes, and he can sense it by the way the other man possesses him, pushing into him with tender thrusts in a soft and steady rhythm. This is not about fucking each other senseless, but all about making love – making love for the last time before Robert will walk out of his life for good.

For Jakub it must feel as if Robert had already left him, and the dark-haired striker begins to understand what he has done to him when he didn't talk to him but stayed silent where he should actually have talked, and he finally accepts the other man's wish to stay silent now as well and to not speak and screw it up even more than he has already done.

They move in perfect unison in slow, rolling movements, the tension building between them in the same slow pace, and Robert loses himself in the pleasure of being that close to Jakub and savors the slow build and the pain of his unfulfilled overwhelming desire, a pain that is so much sweeter than the fierce pain of the last weeks has been, so much sweeter than the pain awaiting Robert again after this night will be.

Robert is so hard that it hurts, and he needs release more than he has ever needed anything, but he needs this to last as long as only possible just as much, and he doesn't try to make Jakub move faster, only pulls his head down when the sweet ache in his neglected and throbbing cock becomes too much to bear – too much to stay silent any longer.

He lets the blond swallow his moans and gasps, literally eating Kuba's soft groans himself, and they are still kissing each other deeply when they finally come together in complete silence, the only indication that they have reached the height of absolute ecstasy being Kuba's heavy shudders above him and Robert's own trembling as he spills his hot release between their connected bodies.

Jakub fills him with his claim and his love for the last time, and he steals Robert's desperate cry of satisfaction from his swollen lips, making sure that there won't be a single sound breaking the silence and the peace between them.

For a while they simply lay there, listening to each other's heartbeats slowing down again, their mouths still touching but without really kissing before Kuba gently pulls out and kisses Robert onto his forehead.

They don't bother with cleaning themselves up, they simply settle down to spend the rest of the night together, holding each other tight, and Robert buries his face in the warm crook of Jakub's neck again and falls asleep in his strong arms for one last time, exhausted and numb. He doesn't even has the urge to speak now, everything is said, and the silence between them is oddly comforting and soothing. Robert knows that the pain will come back when the sun rises again to announce a new day, but for now, he is grateful for the numbness that will make the dreaded goodbye more bearable.

Kuba embraces him tightly and kisses his cheek, and Robert relaxes and succumbs to the slumber of exhaustion and despair, dwelling in the feeling of sleeping next to the man he loves for one last precious night.

When Robert wakes up again, morning hasn't come yet, the shadows still the dark shadows of the late night, and the air still chilly after the long absence of the warm sunlight.

The blond Pole has turned away from him during their sleep, his back reminding of a insurmountable wall. Jakub has never done that before, and that he turned away from Robert during the night when he was sound asleep tells Robert more than words could ever do, giving the silence between them an entire new meaning.

Robert stares at the broad back for a moment before he leaves the bed without making any sound, not wanting to disturb the silence as he collects his clothes and looks back one last time at the man still sleeping in the bed.

“I love you, Jakub Blaszczykowski.”

His quietly whispered words echo in the dark bedroom, and Robert waits until they are not audible any longer before he turns away from Jakub, closing the door carefully and silently behind himself.


End file.
